Psychic and physical clutter

Every Sunday I check Minerva’s horoscope in the SF Chronicle. Why? Old habits die hard. Anyhow, this week’s entry says:

LEO July 22-August 21
Do it! Do it now. A home office of some sort has tickled your fancy for some time. Maybe it’s a suite, maybe a small corner. Whatever, the size, time and effort spent there can change your life. Family matters are iffy, maybe even bittersweet. Perhaps you’ll use your home office for a little writing. Something meaningful like “Raising Children For Fun and Profit.”

Well. There’s always a fairly high probability that your horoscope will speak to you in a significant way (particularly sun sign horoscopes from the newspaper, and I can explain to you why this is so another time), but this week is just so on.

We’ve been in this house for nearly five months now and I still don’t have access to my home office because it’s stuffed full of boxes. The guest room and what will eventually be Simon’s room also have more than their fair share of crap in them. But my office is the one that’s making me crazy, because I have no place in this house that’s mine. The pens, paper, and scissors? They have to be stored up and out of reach in the kitchen, or else they disappear. I have nowhere to put my computer, so I’m still camped here at the end of the kitchen island, annoying both me and Darin. And the extras connected to my computer, like the Palm dock and the iPod dock? Fuhgeddabouddit.

We have no pictures up and we still have boxes everywhere. We have a 2800-sq.ft. house and we’re crowded into about half of it.

And some people we know are having their housewarming today. They moved in three or four weeks ago. True, they only moved about ten miles.

We’ll probably have our housewarming right around Simon’s second birthday. He’s only 17 months now. Is that enough time to finish getting this place in shape, do you think?